


when there is only you and I

by anupturnedboat



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Episode Related, F/M, Falling In Love, Inner Dialogue, Morning After, Shooting Stars, i still love henry rollins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 09:55:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1853725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anupturnedboat/pseuds/anupturnedboat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Here in this moment we are beautiful, nocturnal creatures and our thoughts and words are jewels guarded by the moon.” ~ Henry Rollins</p>
<p>- and her hair smells like smoke from wild jungle fires.</p>
<p>Episode 1x05 Twilight's Last Gleaming</p>
<p>Finn Collins Tiny drabble</p>
            </blockquote>





	when there is only you and I

_“Here in this moment we are beautiful, nocturnal creatures and our thoughts and words are jewels guarded by the moon.” ~ Henry Rollins_

\- and her hair smells like smoke from wild jungle fires.

There are secret places - ones to hole up in when the world explodes into a chaotic melee of raging children, and ones that are the soft, fragrant skin between her earlobe and collarbone.

Finn doesn’t know which is more important, or if one matters without the other.

Or if anything matters at all, as delicate agreements shatter, and a girl whose name he only knew recently, sighs, and leaps off a cliff edge.

There are words, a whole universe full of them, but in this moment, when they are the only two people on earth, all he can do is repeat Clarke’s elegant ones.

His heart drums wildly and he thinks about stories he’s read, stories about arctic forests, wolves and the call of that mysterious primordial _something._

At last he understands that this is a new world, that this moment matters. And all that come next _matter_ if any of them are going to survive.

There can be no more jumping, no more killing, no more broken children.

They are on the precipice of clarity - and her skin is so soft.

“Shooting star,” he says, taking it as a sign. “You should make a wish.”

“Its just a rock burning up in the atmosphere,” she scoffs, “why would that make your wish come true?”


End file.
